


Flowers of Glass

by WritingRagdoll



Category: Peaky Blinders (TV)
Genre: F/M, Lemon, Pregnancy, Romance, Smut, pious, reader - Freeform, religious
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-17
Updated: 2018-09-05
Packaged: 2019-06-11 20:38:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 18,098
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15323835
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WritingRagdoll/pseuds/WritingRagdoll
Summary: Warnings: Implied sexual content (M)Pairings: Thomas Shelby x Pious!ReaderSummary:  Reader is a devout Catholic. Her innocence and modesty make her untouchable to all of the men of Birmingham. However- is she really untouchable to all of the men in Birmingham?





	1. The Untouchable Woman

> **Chapter [1] - The Untouchable Woman**

The Shelby brothers and other associates stood on the street of Watery Lane on a fine morning. The skies were clear which was odd for a day in Birmingham.  
Arthur and John Shelby leaned against the worn bricked wall behind them. Arthur drank and shared a smoke with his brother. The other simply kept company and enjoyed themselves.  
  
Meanwhile, Thomas Shelby was business as usual. He took long strode as he moved from one place to the next to set his business in order. Civilians on the streets dodged his way and bowed down in apologies if their paths crossed with his. Tommy had a mission, as the patriarch of the Shelby, it was his duty to not only grow the family. He was also responsible for the city, _for his city._  
  
“Oi! Tommy,” Arthur called out to his brother.  
“Come over here and have a drink with us.” He nodded his head in the direction of the group as he took a sip of his whiskey.  
The group all grinned and nodded. However, Thomas didn’t stop. Unsatisfied, Arthur reached out for his younger brother and literally dragged him to the group.  
“I’ve got stuff to do,” Thomas mumbled irked as he was robbed from his daily routine.  
“Don’t be ridiculous. Sun’s out Tommy. Let’s enjoy a pint,” Arthur said casually slapping him in the back gently and pouring him a mug of fine scotch whiskey. The group of men talked about the usual subjects. Other gangs, the business, horses, and of course, a popular topic, the local women in town.  
  
“-Like that Lizzie Stark, eh?” One of the men elbowed another as he referenced to one of the city’s most well-known prostitute.  
“That’s nothing new! Is there a man in this town that hasn’t  porked Lizzie Stark?” The other laughed as they mocked the woman. (Not as if they were any better). It was then that an abrupt silence consumed the group.  
From a distance, they saw that pious woman. She walked quietly with her small purse tucked at her side. Her (hair/color) hair was neatly combed. She kept to herself as she walked in straight strides. Her head held high. She avoided the prying gazes of the other people in town. Especially the men’s.  
She dressed in light colors and was known to be kind and soft-spoken when addressed. A stylish hat aided in the shy nature of hiding her face.  
  
“Well, will you look at that,” One of the men licked his lips and let out a low whistle. “Now that’s somebody nobody’s been with. Not even a somebody like you Arthur!” One laughed as he slapped the oldest Shelby in the back roughly. Arthur’ s pride ached. Deep inside he knew there was no chance.  
(Name) was untouchable. She was considered by the other civilians to be a good Catholic girl. Every mother-in-law’s wet dream.  
She didn’t have many friends in the city and worked at the local clinic as a medic. She would spend her nights praying in church, even on weekends. The woman had never even set foot in a pub. To be frank, It was a very dull way of living. However, she was devoted to her faith and content with her simple life. The woman didn’t bother in giving the cat calling men her time of the day.

Unnoticed by the Peaky Blinders- Thomas Shelby’s grip tightened the mug he had been handed.   
  
_Tommy pictured what the weight of her frame would feel under his own…_  
  
Arthur Shelby fixed his bowtie. His hand brushed over his moustache lip before he headed out on his search for conquest. Arthur realized that his brother looked particularly upset.  
“Watch this Tommy,” he winked at his brother in an attempt to lighten up his mood.  
The men cheered and pump their fist up in the air as Arthur made way towards the woman. They wondered if today would be the day someone finally conquered (Name)’ s heart. Arthur approached her. He stopped her engaging in conversion.

_He could still feel her heat. He saw the blush that reddened her face and stretched all the way down to her neck. He could feel her feathery kisses on his chest…_  
  
Tommy didn’t dare look away. His eyes were glued to the scene. His jaw clenched at the sight of her brother intruding on the pious woman’s innocence.  
  
_He could hear her moaning for his mercy… As she called out her God’s name…_  
  
From the distance, the men witnessed Arthur’s petty attempt at seducing the town’s prude. The man took off his hat and slightly bowed down to greet her like the true gentleman he was. She didn’t even bother stopping in her tracks. She simply nodded politely and continued off on her day trip. She wouldn’t stop. _Not even for a Shelby._ The men began hollering and laughing at Arthur’s public rejection. The woman didn’t stop. Her head turned to see the gang of men on the corner of the lane.  
  
When suddenly, her eyes locked with Thomas Shelby’s deathly gaze. Her heart jumped to her throat, its pace rapidly increasing. She sucked in her breath and with a crimson face rushed out of the scene. Tommy didn’t smile back. The grip on his mug softened. His jaw unclenched.   
  
He could still remember.  
  
_He could still remember what she felt like. What it was like, having her…_


	2. A Godless Man

Thomas Shelby was not a man to pray.   
He was a Godless man. To him- God was dead…  
God had died in France. The Great War had turned his beliefs into disbeliefs. To him, religion was propaganda, a difference, at the end of the day it was simply another business to run.

Church was not a place Tommy frequented. Not even on Sundays, not even with family. Strangely enough, lately he had been finding himself strolling the corridors of Birmingham's Catholic church.   
He only attended at dusk, under the dark veil of the night which protected his infamous identity from any prying eyes.   
He lit a cancer stick in a mindless matter as he walked inside of the gothic structure. As always, his strides were long and direct; he wasn't the kind of man to halt for anyone, and much less when he had a target in mind.  
His eyes were narrowed in focus as he approached his target.  
He paid no regard to the beautiful tall, crimson, marble arches that decorated the church or to any of the other architectural details of the building. As far as he was concerned, the only thing that existed was the woman kneeling across the room. The many candles in the room dimly illuminated the intricately stained glass windows of the temple. His shoes sounded his step announcing his arrival. Then again, Thomas Shelby wasn't a man who needed to announce his arrival. His terrifying presence was automatically acknowledged and respected upon entering a room.

At the very front of the church, to the side, past the many pews knelt a conservative woman in sweet devotion. She prayed piously on her knees. Small mumbling could be heard, her hands clasped together as she meditated in devoted praying to her deity. Her hidden face was bowed down. A white lace veil covered her modesty in the House of God.

Tommy walked past the pews down the aisle of the church, he stopped, his presence hovering over her. His hands were hidden deep in the pockets of his suit as he observed her figure before the small altar with his head tilted to the side. His icy eyes buried like daggers into her back. The intensity of his eyes was enough to send an unpleasant chill down her spine.  
Snapping out of her trance she lit a new candle before slowly turning her head. From her profile, with narrowed eyes, she eyed to see the sharp-dressed man, the leader of the Peaky Blinders, stood behind her. She noted the lack of respect this man held for her God. He was inside a temple and still wore his hat. A cigarette dangled off his lips without much care.

"A gentleman would take off his hat, put off his cigarette," she said quietly to him. Her tone wasn't welcoming.

Despite her words, he stood still, not breaking eye contact.

"Out of respect..." she scolded in a low hiss.  
"I think you’re the one who should be thanking me (Name)- out of respect," he said tossing his cigarette and putting it off with the back of his heel.  
There was something about the way he said her name that sat uneasily with the woman. She hadn’t even told him her name. He had been watching her.  
The pious woman finished with the sign of the cross and retired from her prayers. She turned to look at the man before her with wary eyes.

She pursued her lips and slightly bowed her head. If a thank you was all he wanted... It was well deserved when she considered the circumstances of the night when they met.

"Thank you, sir," she said curtly.

With that, she sidestepped him and made way towards the exit. She flinched when his cold hand reached for her arm. Freezing on the spot, once again, she turned to face him. Both individuals eyed the other with caution.   
She had said thanks. Now, just what was it was that this man could possibly want from her?  
His looks didn’t go amiss to her. (Name) noted his sharp eyes. Those cold eyes appeared to be able to see through her soul. Just like most British people, his skin was pale. His freckles dusted his face and gave him a more youthful appearance. She had no words for the and the elegant clothes he wore. They were stunning. 

Thomas Shelby was the most powerful man in all of Birmingham. What could he possibly want with her?

He saw the intrigue in her (eye/colored) eyes. The way her brows furrowed. Not unnoticed by most she was a pretty little thing. With (Hair/color) colored hair which suited her. Her clothes were humble and modest and reflected her conservative character. (Name) was, in a nutshell, every mother-in-law's wet dream.

"Do you know who I am?" He asked, his lips pulled into a thin line. His hand did not release her arm. However, his grip softened.

"Yes.…" she answered softly, her eyes never left his.

You'd have to be dead or be living under a rock if you didn't know who Thomas Shelby was.

"But you're not afraid," he said looking at her oddly.  
"No," she responded sternly. 

Her free hand reached for her chest as she held the golden cross that hung around her neck nicely. 

"My God will always protect me," she said wholeheartedly. Thomas made the mistake of doubting if she was being sincere. Yet the woman's faith weighted heavily on her confident expression.

Tommy couldn't help but crack the slightest smile at her comment. He let out what sounded like a humorous huff. He would never pray to a god. Not even if the threat of a bullet hovered above his temple.

"Is that so?" His grip tightened as the edge of his lips turned upwards. He couldn't help it. He snaked his arms around her body and pulled her close to him. Their noses brushed when he performed the rough motion. There was not an inch of space between their bodies. He thought to himself how pleasant it was to have a woman whose body fit perfectly against his own.

"And where was your God the night that I saved you?" 

Her breath caught. She could feel his steady hands holding her in place. His human scent, the smell of whiskey and cigars were part of his essence. She had no answer for him. After all, she had been taught that God works in mysterious ways...  
A reflex kicked in. It was after she realized just what she had done that made her stomach sink. The shock was reflected in her face. She had just about signed her death sentence.  
She smacked him across the face and pushed his body off hers.

Before (Name) stood a man who in the snap of his fingers could have her head laying on his lap.

Tommy reached for his stinging cheek and held it for a moment. His expression was unreadable. His eyes slowly turned towards her and he eyed her with an expression that was unfamiliar to her. 

Raw scorching desire.

He looked at the flustered woman. She could feel the heat rise to the back of her neck. (Name)’s heart had leaped to her throat. She opened her mouth and instead a small yelp escaped her frowning lips. With that, she scurried away from the opposite way. He had never been hit like that by a woman.  
No woman- no person would ever dare lay a finger on him. And then- this woman - had the audacity and boldness strike him.

(Name) left in such a rush. His eyes followed her as she exited the temple. He could still feel the imprint of her hand on his face. It was too bad that she missed the sight of his lips stretching across his face into a vile, devilish grin.


	3. First Encounters

Sometime before Arthur made an advance towards the town's prude and days before Thomas Shelby made it his mission to actively pursued her, he met her. Scratch that. He saved her.

One night, (Name) was leaving the home of Mr. Alfred MacAskin. Alfred was an elderly gentleman. He had no family and no loved ones. Mr. MacAskin had fallen ill with a terrible disease. Due to her work for the local doctor in the city, who was also her father, (Name) had to attend to this ill man's needs.

She blessed him, gave him his medicine and attended him with a type of kindness which had been rarely shown to the older man. She left his house in the evening. The rain poured heavily outside in fat droplets that splashed the dirty cobblestone streets of Birmingham. Spreading her umbrella above her head she ducked from under the floor and made way home. Her shoes and socks were bone soaked as she walked in the rain. Having been a coal miner for most of his life, Mr. MacAskin lived far from (Name)'s own home.  
(Name) clutched her purse closer to her body as she shied away from the British rain. A couple of street turns later she found herself walking outside of a local pub, The Garrison. She knew that it was commonly visited by gangsters and knew best to not even look at the establishment.  
She could feel the eyes of the men in the pub watching her. Some let out low wolf whistles as they called after her.  
You'd think the rain would keep the harassment at bay. 

She stumbled on a misplaced block. The witnessed let out throaty laughs at her clumsiness. Regaining her balance she continued on her trip home and blocked off the words of the drunkards.

She turned on the street corner and stopped dead in her tracks. As she turned, she caught a strange man and a woman in a vulgar act. The woman mewled and moaned as the man got handsy with her. Lust reflected in both of their blinded eyes. 

Embarrassed she let out a squeak and turned the opposite way. It was in her misroute that she suddenly felt a haunting feeling in her gut.  
Through the tapping of the rain on rooftops and windows, she could hear them. A trio of men tailing just a couple of steps behind her. It didn't take long for them to catch up with her. They were loud as they hollered at her.

"Where ya goin'?" One of the men stepped in front of her. She sidestepped him and continued on her way with a serious expression. 

'If you ignore them, they'll leave.'She repeated to herself in her head. She held her breath and shut her eyes tightly as she continued on her trek. It was simple. One step after the other. One step after the other.  
"Where ya going' pretty thing?" another laughed as he reached for the hem of her skirt with a soaking wet hand. She smacked his hand away and dashed. She wasn't fast enough. One reached for her arm roughly.

"Don't touch me!" she shouted just right before smacking the individual on the face with her purse.  
"Hey!" The individual slurred in a sultry tone. His meaty hand reached for her throat and he held it in place. "I asked where you're going to chavtastic whore." He spat, his breath reeked of alcohol and stronger drugs. 

She bit her tongue. Funny how she had gone from being called a pretty thing to a cheap whore. She didn't know which one was worse.

"She ain't going nowhere," another man let out a throaty laugh as he whispered it in her ear. They took her umbrella and tossed it to the side. The rainwater greeted her skin with an unpleasant shiver.

"No!" She made a run for it. Two men grabbed her arms. "No!" She shouted in horror.

The other shoved her against the wall, she cried out in pain at the rough impact. 

"Please don't!" Her voice strained, her face felt hot. Eyes began to pool with stinging tears.  
"Take my money- Please-I'll give you anything-" She shouted as she begged them to stop.  
"Charry aren't we?-" the middle one said slapping his hands over her mouth. Against all odds, she bit him. "Stupid bitch!" He said before knocking her a good one on the side of her face. She gasped at the pain.  
She could feel his lecherous hands roaming her body. Raising her wet skirt up.  
"It's going to be my turn after, I can't wait to feel that tight little cunt of yours," the other man said as he stuck out his hot wet tongue and traced her jawline. She cringed. She could feel the other's hands clenching onto her butt cheek. She tightened her legs closed together. The tears spilled. The man unbuttoned her shirt. He groped her breasts with his dirty hands. The tears continued spilling as she sobbed. "Please stop!" She wailed in desperation.  
"Dear God- please make it stop!"

The man kissed her neck, her face, her lips. His beard scratched her wet skin. Her pleas didn't stop. She began sobbing a prayer as the violating act continued.

It worked. Both of the men suddenly froze. Their hands remained glued to her, yet were paralyzed. The air shifted. Fear spilled over the dark streets of the coal mining district.

"What's going on here?" A voice joined the party. The voice was cool and held a strong Birmingham accent.

She could only see the outline of the person in the darkness. It was clearly a man. Next to him stood two other individuals. They had a hefty build. One held an umbrella for the man standing in the middle. Despite the act having ceased, (Name)'s tears spilled.

"Oi, we're just having a little fun," the man who wasn't restraining her said turning around with a broad grin. His dick was sticking out of his pants. Despite it, the shadow remained unbothered.

There was a moment of fat silence amongst them.

"Get out of my sight before I slit your throats didicoy bastards." The man in the shadows spoke. It was clear he wasn't a copper. His voice was firm, yet held an olive oil smoothness to it.  
Without any hesitation, the violators decided to skedaddle. 

The grip on her arms lessened as they dropped it. There was a moment of tension that both of the groups exchanged. 

"A'ight, we'll be off-" the man agreed nervously. He said something in a language that (Name) didn't understand and they pulled her away with them as they left the scene.  
"No! Please!" She sobbed weakly as she struggled against their meat claws. The rain hadn't stopped.

"Leave her," the man ordered, his tone shifting to a more stern one. The accusers stopped. Their grip so tight on her she was certain it would bruise. Her prayers had been answered!

"I want her to myself."The man in the shadows spoke darkly. She took the former statement away.

Just like that, they dropped her- more like tossed her to the filthy wet ground. Like a used rag she was dropped. She immediately reached for her open shirt and hugged her body together in the best attempt to preserve whatever was remaining of her pride. The men stepped away laughing maliciously. To them, it hadn't meant anything.  
Now, she was just chow for a bigger fish in town. He wanted her to himself. She knelt on a fetal position, tears streaming down face quietly as she held onto her body. The rain was hitting hard. It mixed with her tears. 

He approached her. His footsteps meshing with the gravel underneath. He was hovering over her. She shrunk.  
It was then that she suddenly felt a contrasting warmth surround her. She opened her eyes and realized that the stranger was not a copper. He had instead shielded her from the cold with his suit jacket. With her eyes wide she looked at the man before her. She still couldn't distinguish his features in the darkness of the night. 

She held his jacket closer to her body and wiped her tears away slightly embarrassed. Their bodies were sheltered by an umbrella. One of the men held an umbrella over them. The other swiftly approached them with his head down and handed her the lost umbrella and her soaking wet purse. She combed some of the wet hair that was sticking to her forehead out of the way. The man gently placed a hand on her lower back and lead her towards the light. He remained silent. As did she. Small sniffling sounds could be heard escaping her lips.

Standing under a lamppost that's when she got a good look at him. Her heart stopped. 

The man was tall. He had a square face with a strong bone structure. His high cheekbones were sharp. Hair dark was neatly trimmed on the sides. His lips were thin, nose straight and his eyes were an electrifying shade of gray.  
He wore a hat, it took her a moment to see the subtle blades sticking out from it. His vest and matching suit jacket she now wore were made of the finest textiles she had ever felt. She could see his tattoos becoming transparent underneath his wet white undershirt. She swallowed hard. 

She felt her breath escape her.

This was even worse.

It was none other than Thomas Shelby.  
The patriarch of the Shelby clan. The leader of the Peaky Blinders. The most dangerous man in the city. 

He eyed her oddly. His hand reached for the cross that hung around her neck and he twirled it on his fingertips.

"What's your name?" he asked with his silky voice. It seemed as if everything he said sounded absolutely imperative despite of the context. It was then that she realized he wasn't asking. He demanded to know her name.

"U-uh…" she stuttered, unable to form a cohesive sentence. His glare became more intense.  
"I…" She opened her mouth but no sound came out. The only sound was the one of the rain falling around them. 

"I-I…I have to go," she somehow managed to speak.

She stepped away from the man and ran. Ran as fast as she could.

"She-she's got your jacket-" one of Tommy's muscleman said. The Peaky Blinder simply raised his palm in dismissal. Curiosity and interest-filled Tommy. His eyes didn't once leave the woman's outline as she vanished into the darkness of the night.


	4. A Charitable Heart

(Name) had actually rejected all of Tommy Shelby’s forward approaches. It was rare for a woman to reject his advances, it seldom happened, and by seldom - he meant never.

He was the most powerful man in Birmingham. He could have anything he wanted or anyone for a fact. Most of the women simply became putty in his hands. How could they not? He wanted them and they wanted either power or money. It was simple. It was just like any other business.

But- (Name) was different. He had been pursuing her for so long that at this point he was perplexed. He couldn’t pinpoint if she was actually rejecting him. The coy smile that would follow his bold approaches towards her told him otherwise.

It’s not like it mattered…

It only made him want her more.

He sat in the church. She sat next to him.

Again, it was only them too and the empty temple. Like always, the couple met in the midst of the night. However, it had been happening more often that they would linger in the church for hours until before dawn.

She always opposed Tommy’s request to escort her home. Regardless he would accompany her to her door.

Despite all the times he had entered the church, he still refrained from removing his hat in the House of God. Which irked (Name) off to no end.

Her body remained tense. No matter how charming and handsome Tommy was there was one important factor she would not allow herself to forget.

He was dangerous. Very, very dangerous.

In more ways than one too…

He stirred something inside of her. Something that had yet to awaken.

To this day she was surprised the Peaky Blinders hadn’t come to chop her hands off in the middle of the night.

“I’m taking you out,” he said after a moment of silence. She looked at him with her (eye/colored) eyes the size of saucers. Boom. There it was. Did he mean killing her?

“We’ll go to the cinema and then for a fine dinner,” he continued. Again, it was not a request.

“No thank you,” she once again defied him with a polite smile, the glint in her eyes was coquettish despite her words.

“By the way, here’s your jacket,” she held his folded jacket in her hands. It served as a reminder of that horrifying night when they met. He didn’t bother in acknowledging the jacket or her rejection. Like always, his sharp eyes remained on her face. The edge of his lips had curved into a sly smile, a look of amusement on his pallid features.

“I had a feeling you would say that,” Tommy suddenly spoke. “Which is why I bought you this,” Thomas sunk his hand into his pocket and pulled out a small velvet box.

She looked at him oddly.

“It’s yours,” he said offering the gift to her. Her eyes looked at the small, dark, box in his hand. She couldn’t help but note how long and thin his fingers were.

Taking the box in her hand she opened it to reveal a golden necklace. The necklace had a cross charm. The cross’s design was intricate. It was dotted with small gems that glimmered with the dim light of the room. You could tell it was fine to work done by a professional in a bigger city.

“Thank you,” she said breathlessly. Her eyebrows furrowed at the bridge of her nose as she said it. She reached for his hand and gave it a light squeeze. “Thank you,” she said again. She was truly moved by the gesture.

He squeezed her hand back softly.

Tommy was satisfied.

Jewels. He should’ve tried that from the beginning. Despite having pleased her, part of him was disappointed. He couldn’t believe it had been that easy. Maybe she really was just like the rest of the lot.

She stood up and walked towards the altar. His eyes narrowed when he saw that she took the necklace chain and had no hesitation when shoving it inside the tiny hole of the church’s donation box. She slapped the top of it ensuring the expensive accessory had gone in all the way.

“Thank you so much! Your donation is going to do so much for the church.” She pressed both of her palms against her chest gratefully.

“Perhaps now, the church will finally have a fully functioning organ.” She smiled at him with an edge of sarcasm.

He couldn’t take her seriously. He reached for his chin and covered what would be a rare growing smile.

Of course. It had been too easy.

She took a seat in the first pew to the right, as far away as she could from the man. Again, she knelt down on her knees. Did the sign of the cross and continued in her prayer.

(Name) was so odd. She intrigued him.

And he hated to admit that he found himself at ease and could sometimes be seen with a slight smile on his thin lips.

“What are your sins?” He asked curiously.

“Excuse me?” She coughed and turned to look at him perplexed. What kind of question was that?

“What is the reason for your loyal devotion?” he asked as he pulled a cigarette to his mouth and lit it.

“A gentleman would take off his hat and wouldn’t light a cigarette in the House of God,” she uttered through gritted teeth. She had told him at least a thousand times, but of course, he didn’t care.

“Smoke?” he offered with that devilish smirk on his features. He knew it would irk her to no end. Besides, he was, after all, a gentleman of sorts.

“Who’d you kill?” He asked exhaling a cloud of smoke above their heads.

She scoffed at the question before removing the hat from his head. It was a fast reflex. He didn’t bat a single eyelash. With a frustrated sigh, she placed it on the seat next to her.

Tommy enjoyed getting under her skin. He found it somewhat humorous.

“Why do you assume that I’m beginning for forgiveness? Are you projecting something Thomas?” she teased.

He rolled his eyes at the jab on him and his family’s business.

“If you must know-” she said finishing her prayer. “I’m praying thanks to God.”

He couldn’t take his eyes off her. He couldn’t say it enough times, she was so odd. He figured he could observe her for forever and always be entertained. He couldn’t help himself. His hands reached for her face and he held it in place. His thumb traced the outline of her mouth as he slowly leaned in. His eyes darted from hers to her parted lips. She had fallen silent. There was an unbearable tension in the air. She could feel her knees turning into jelly as her eyes began to close.

He was dangerous. He was a murdered. A corrupt man. The leader of a band of vile assassins. In the eyes of (Name), he was as bad as a sin.

She felt an unfamiliar coldness and opened her eyes to see that Tommy had pulled away abruptly. He wore a cocky expression of satisfaction. An exhaled escaped 

“Glad to know you’re eager to sin with me, darling.”

(Name) felt her ears burning from the embarrassment as her face flushed a bright shade of scarlet. She looked at him, her eyes turned into angry slits. She emitted an indistinguishable sound of frustration. Unable to conjure a follow-up retort she left the temple.

She tried but failed to ignore her racing heart.


	5. Angel and Demon

“Are you happy love?” Tommy asked as he stood at the entrance of the church holding (Name) by the side, hand tightly wrapped her waist. She stood next to him with her arms crossed over her chest. He held one of her hands in his.

It had been too much, but then again how could she possibly be upset?

After all, it had been for a charitable cause… right?

“You didn’t have to do all of this Tommy!” she stared at the brand new organ the Shelby family had so kindly ‘donated’ to the church. There was a new table for ceremonies, a new podium, he had even gone as far as donating an elegant sacristy for the ceremonial Hosts. Both the priest and the local bishop were over the moon with the improvements that had been done to Birmingham’s church.

She sighed, her shoulders dropping. Her disappointment came from the inability of the man to drop his pride for one and one moment only.

“I just wanted you to apologize. That’s all.”

She might as well have asked him for the world at her feet.

Thomas scoffed. The idea was ridiculous to him.

(Name) looked at him with her eyebrows raised. Thomas Shelby did not look like the type of man to apologize. Ever.

Without saying another word, he wrapped his other arm around her and pulled her dangerously close. She slowly eased into his cold touch. She had decided that she fancied the man. It was hard to resist his approaches, even if in her eyes he was the embodiment of sin.

He stole, killed, lied, womanized- she had also heard of Thomas Shelby’s dangerous wrath but so far she had experienced nothing but kindness from him.

It was hard for (Name) to see him as the feared entity he really was.

Resisting him was futile.

Besides- all they ever did was spend time in the House of God which was perfectly normal. Outside of that, as far as (Name) knew. Nobody in town knew about their relationship. Not even her father. (God forbid the town’s doctor found out.)

He had to have her. He crashed his lips into hers and held her close. She could feel the ends of her nerves tingling. She didn’t even feel her veil slip off and fall into the church’s maroon floor. She gave into him and pulled him closer by the collar of his suit jacket. The intensity increased-

“What is the meaning of this?!” a loud voice suddenly boomed.

A stout man stormed into the church.

With a red face (Name) looked away from her priest. She swore under her breath. Tommy noted it was probably the first time he had ever heard such foul language escape her pretty lips (and Lord forgive, inside of a church!).

Father O'Ryan marched to the front of the altar. His face resembled a stout tomato. He was furious. He reminded Thomas of a whistling tea mug. Despite it, Tommy held a bored expression on his face.

“This church is not a house for sin Ms. (Last Name)!” The priest ran as he marched towards the couple.

It was then that he realized whom the woman was with.

When the priest realized who she was with, his blood ran cold.

“Mr-Mr. Shelby,” the priest gasped. Cold sweat built on his brow.

“Blessed be. To have you grace our beautiful temple.” He piped. “We cannot thank you enough for all the renovations. The church truly has become a home for the community-” The priest continued rambling nervously.

The couple listened to the priest for a moment.

“-God certainly has a place for you in heaven, Mr. Shelby.” Father O'Ryan said both his eyebrows furrowed as a tight-lipped smile stretched across his round face as he nodded his head in an exaggerated manner.

Tommy hated how much of a hypocrite the church could be.

“Thanks.” He said after a moment. It didn’t sound sincere.  
“Don’t need it.” He added cockily.

(Name) covered her mouth. Tommy couldn’t pinpoint if it was to keep her laughter in or to hide her gaping mouth. He placed a hand between her shoulder blades and lead her out of the temple.

“You’re the devil in disguise Thomas Shelby.” She shook her head.

For her, it was hard to wrap her mind around his disbelief in life after death. She couldn’t believe that he didn’t’ believe in neither heaven or hell, the Resurrection or God’s mercy.

“And what does that make you? My fallen angel?” He leaned in and placed a kiss on her temple. Her face lit up with a tint of blush at the gesture.

She was unsure of what to respond. After all, the devil, had once too, been an angel.

She was still touching her lips as they walked the dark streets of Birmingham. The devil had been an angel. The most beautiful one too. She couldn’t help but wonder just what had made Thomas the damaged man he was today. Her hand reached for his and he wrapped his fingers around hers. She eyed his expression carefully. She could see the slightest curve turn upwards on his lip, despite it, he kept his stoic mask.

“Where are you taking me?” She asked.

He didn’t answer. Simply lead her into the city. He might as well have been dragging her to hell. Regardless, she followed…

 

Rudolph Valentino appeared on the screen. His smoldering eyes and suave movements almost put Tommy Shelby’s to shame.

The couple currently sat in the cinema.

Alone.

There was not a single soul in the room.

(Name) didn’t know who Tommy had spoken to, but they had kept the cinema open this late just for him. It only proved how much the citizens of Birmingham respected- or, to be franker, feared the Shelby clan.

Despite having been alone many times, there was something unsafe about being outside of the church. Alone with him.

She felt vulnerable and unprotected being outside of the House of God with him.

Tommy sipped a glass of whiskey calmly. He appeared to be enjoying the film. Then again it was hard to tell with his typically composed expression.

Feeling anxious, sitting in the darkness of the cinema, (Name) held the chilled glass of whiskey in her hand, the only alcohol she had ever had was the cheap wine that was given in Sunday’s mass.

Seeking for the liquid courage she sipped on the whiskey slowly in an attempt to soothe her uneasiness. She wasn’t fond of the strong taste and forced it down despite the burning in her throat.

Today had been a day of firsts. First kiss. First, drink.

First outing together. She was on the edge of her seat, her nerves jumping at the slightest twitch of his hand around a shoulder.

Rudolph had successfully seduced the woman on the black and white screen that flickered before them. He leaned in to kiss her.

The grip on Tommy’s hand tightened around (Name)’s shoulder.

She let out a shaky breath and turned to face him. She opened her mouth to speak but was instead silenced by his breath on hers. He tasted of whiskey and stirred something inside of her. Tommy leaned down and put his empty glass away.

“Tommy-” she breathed.

He once again silenced her. His lips left hers and trailed down to her neckline. They stopped just above her clavicle, where they lingered with gentle sucking.

Her free hand reached for the back of his head and rested on his nape, her fingers stroked his short, dark hair.

She felt her chest swelling as his strong hands lowered. Her heart was racing. This couldn’t be right.

'Give in…' A voice in the back of her head whispered. Tempted her. 'Give in…’

It wasn’t right.

“Tommy, please stop,” she pulled away with a trembling voice. There was an unfamiliar heat pooling between her legs that originated in what she assumed could only be the pits of her stomach. He held her closer. It was then that his bare fingers lightly scratched the skin under her blouse. Goose-bumps jumped in her skin.

“Thomas. Stop!”

With an impulse, she pushed him off her person. He looked at her in surprise before emitting a small chuckle. He leaned in again to kiss her.

“Tease…” He grumbled.

His grip once again found a way to her body, his hand wandered lower than she wished.

“I mean it.” She said sternly.

He didn’t listen. She jumped to her feet becoming hysterical. He was just the same as those pigs that had assaulted her that fateful night in which they met. His eyes looked murderous. He clenched his jaw. Perhaps… he was worse.

“(Name)!” He said the following. His temper had been lost. His jaw clenched. Their shadows cast against the cinema screen before them.

“I am a lady!” She exclaimed, demanding to be treated as what a lady of the time

Once again he reached for her, she pulled back and escaped the room. His gripped tightened around her arm. He buried his nose in her hair and inhaled her scent.

“I will make you my lady,” he grumbled against her skin in a dangerous tone.

Something about his tone sent a chill down her spine. Her breath hitched at the tone; there was something arousing about it.

Without thinking twice, she tossed her glass at him. The golden liquid stained his suit and spilled everywhere around. The glass came crashing down and broke into shards. Tommy’s pupils had shrunk to dangerous slits that gazed upon her scared expression.

If looks could kill…

“I-I’m not going to stay with you in this-in this-” she struggled to find the appropriate word. “In this room of sin!”


	6. Devil in Disguise

(Name) had been terribly busy working at the clinic she ran alongside her father, the town’s doctor. 

For some reason floods of people, most specifically men had been coming into the clinic. All of them seemed to share the injury of slices and cuts all over their faces. One of the men cried as the doctor attempted to salvage his vision. (Name) stood nearby assisting her father and cleaning the blood that was oozing from the man’s face.

“It was those damn Peaky Blinders!” The man’s companion cried out angrily. “Criminals used to believe in something, in respect. Can’t get nun’ that anymore.”

She saw the man’s scarred face. He rambled about the dead bodies the other sailors had found by the docks. There were things that only a monster could be capable of. 

Which was what she was blinded to: Thomas’s truth. 

Her father’s face scrunched up in a frown. “Thugs.” He simply spat in disgust as he bandaged the injured man. “Lousy thugs. ” He repeated.  
His tone made her stomach churn anxiously. If he ever found out about her relationship to Thomas Shelby, he’d have her head on a stick.

“You’d think an honest man could take pride in fulfilling an honest day’s work,” 

Not that it mattered. After the fiasco from the other night…

Her mind trailed to the feeling of his hands on her and his lips breathing on her hot skin.  
The simple thought raised goosebumps on her skin and made her cheeks flush brightly. 

She wondered if she was a bad Catholic for wanting him too?  
For having these thoughts- or even the slightest idea of giving up her chastity to such a dangerous individual. Was it normal for women to hold such sinful desires?

“I think he might fancy you.” Her father said snapping her out of her thoughts. “My, your cheeks are pink and your ears are red!” he chuckled. “Oh.. Umm… R-Right…” She agreed, uncertain of what to respond and caught off-guard. She hadn’t even noticed the man had left the room.

To be frank, this time she really was surprised she was alive. She had insulted the patriarch of the Peaky Blinders clan. She was spooked enough that the smallest noise at night made her flinch. She prayed to the Virgin Mary for protection and for Tommy’s soul.  
The thought of being found in a ditch with her face scarred and a bullet between her eyes often kept her awake at night.

(Name) had begun to change her routine. She took different routes to get to the market in the afternoon and had even begun attending church at different hours.

She currently found herself at church praying diligently in the small altar behind the sacristy where the priest and the altar servers got ready to celebrate mass. She had faith that God would protect her and that whatever happened, good or bad, was for the best.

“.…Take care of Thomas’s soul… I know he’s a good man…” She prayed to her God in small pleading whispers. Her eyes were closed as she knelt by the austere altar with few candles she had lit.

“You humor me with your prayers,” A deep voice suddenly spoke.

She felt the room turn cold like her blood. Her breath caught.  
With a shaky breath, she slowly turned.   
He stood by the door and carelessly lit a cigarette. He looked as he always did.   
Cool, handsome and collected as he modeled one of his finest gray suits. His piercing, icy eyes were zeroed in on the woman across the small room.

“I thought you weren’t scared of me,” he said after a long, lazy drag.  
“I-I’m not…” she said. However, the shakiness in her voice betrayed her.

She rose to her feet and faced him.

“Why are you here?” She asked. “Have you…” Her voice trailed off. “Have you come to kill me?” 

Tommy let out a rare laugh. A sincere one at that. He muttered something about the situation and shook his head.  
Oh, how she humored him…

“Not many people live to insult me (Name),” he said as he tossed and stepped on his cancer stick. He walked towards her, in a slow in his stride.  
She held her breath as she backstopped into the wall behind her.  
“What do you want from me?” She almost whispered as he stood before her.

He looked at her. He raised his hand at her. She flinched.

He laid it gently on her hair and caressed it, before tucking a lost strand behind her ear.

“I would never hurt you,” he admitted. 

She felt as if the oxygen had run out in the room.

 

With a harsh breath, she dodged past him and exited the small room. Once outside of the room she caught her breath. She stood by the altar doing the sign of the cross when Tommy stepped back into the main room of the church. He had lit a second cigarette and stood next to her.

 

As always- he acted casual.

“You’re not scared of me,” he suddenly said. His fingers inched towards her back as he wrapped an arm around her body. She tensed at his touch feeling slightly light-headed. A chill scurrying down her spine as his masculine scent invaded her senses.

“You’re scared of-”

It was too much for her.

She gave in and bit into the forbidden fruit.  
Temptation had won.

With an unknowing burst of courage, she grabbed his square jaw roughly and planted a wet kiss on his lips. He tasted of cigarettes. Caught off guard, Thomas smirked into her kiss. His free arm snaked around her. It was almost as if she had been possessed. 

Nothing mattered. 

Her judgments, her pride, her religion - surely she could afford to have one sinful strike on her pristine record. Right?  
It was selfish- but humans were selfish by nature. It was a clear message which was elaborated in the first book of the Holy Bible, Genesis. Humanity’s first sin had been greed- proving that to be human was to be selfish.

And as for him… The pious woman had no doubt that Thomas Shelby was the devil himself.

"Then make me yours.” She breathed into his mouth as she caved into the desperate urge he had created in her.

With animalistic instinct, he pushed her towards the sacred altar table. She gasped at his sudden roughness and gripped the white marble’s edge to support her weak knees from giving. He pressed himself against her and pinned her arms to her sides as she lay against the cold stone table.

“Are you sure?” He taunted with the cigarette hanging between his lips. His cold eyes had been consumed by the darkness of his pupils and blown.   
They reminded (Name) of the dangerous predator he really was.  
He pressed his groin against hers, she could feel a tightening stiffness growing, a feeling which was unknown to her and overpowering enough to have seized her morality

“Yes.” She consented. The need for him growing. Almost involuntarily her hips rubbed against his as she sought a way to satiate the itch growing inside her.

He pulled one of her arms towards him and rolled up her blouse’s sleeve.

“Are you sure?” He asked again, his eyes never left hers.  
“Mhnn…” She nodded. As the teasing grinding continued.

He held his cigarette on his hand.  
“It’s going to hurt,” he warned as his eyes sought for any sign of hesitation, he stopped her tempting grinding with one hand on her hip.   
“Just fuckin’ do it.” She cursed. She had to do this before she changed her mind.

A devilish smirk grew on Tommy’s lips, “My, what a filthy mouth.”  
His hand tightened around her arm. Turning it, he eyed the virgin flesh down her wrist.

He branded her. Her mouth opened in a silent scream. The painful sensation spread throughout her body, the adrenaline began to spread through her veins in a blood rush. She liked it.

He pressed the cigarette against her skin putting it off. A small scream escaped lips as she writhed on the altar table. She bared her clenched teeth. He enjoyed the twisted look on her face. Tossing the cigarette behind him, he brought the circular burn mark to his face and planted a gentle kiss on it. She was taken back by the gentle gesture.

“I mark what’s mine.” He said as he tossed his suit jacket to the crimson title floor without much care. His hat had long been lost.

He wasted no time in unbuttoning her blouse. He bit the tender skin of her neck and worked his way down the neckline to her clavicle as his teeth deliciously scraped her flesh. Her skin burned under his devilish touch. One of his hands rounded her bare waist. The other crawled up her skirt, slowly inching towards her pulsating heat.  
Soft moans escaped her lips as she ran her hand through his dark hair, her other arm which was sore with a fresh burn mark held onto his solid arm. His rough hands reached for the hem of her underwear and he removed them. She sat up on the table and wrapped her arms around his neck once again claiming his mouth in hers. It was then that Tommy’s long fingers brushed her budding core. She gasped at the unfamiliar touch. It was almost as if he had flipped a switch.

Her modesty suddenly returned and all of that sultry bravery left her body. Once again she felt vulnerable and exposed. He noticed.

She eyed her familiar surroundings. She was in the middle of the fucking church! It was official she had lost her fucking mind.  
She noticed that all of the Christian figures in the church seemed to be peering upon them both with a judging gaze.

“Tommy- w-what if someone walks in! What if someone sees us!” She panicked as she turned to face the door.  
“Let them.” He said in a low voice before silencing her with a crashing kiss, his tongue pouring into her open mouth.

He could feel the hot wetness that had begun pooling between her legs. The thought that only he could make her feel like this hurt his restricted member. His middle finger slid in with ease and his index one followed in suit. Tommy’s thumb kept busy rubbing her throbbing clit. She winced at the slight discomfort of the gesture.  
Regardless the warmth spread through the rest of her lower body.  
His fingers curled upwards into a spot that made her squirm, she clenched around them as they began to pump in and out of her.  
He groaned a curse deep from his chest. He was beginning to imagine what her insides must feel like. He wanted to ravage her. 

Diving over her body he released her breasts from the bounds of her brassiere. Her chest rose as she was exposed to the cold air of the church. She looked down in shame in a poor attempt to avoid the peering eyes of all the Saints and Virgins in the church. Not sharing her concern, he seized her breast with his mouth and bit her.   
Her back arched in response as a throaty moan escaped her lips. Embarrassed at the lewdness of her voice she bit her tongue in an attempt to keep her lips sealed. His free hand reached for her other nipple which he tortured and perk between his calloused fingers. He wanted to hear her sing. He wanted her to scream out his name.

“You are proud to act so prudish-” he chuckled at her forced silence. Her heart beat increased, her vision was blurring at the edges as thick waves of pleasure rolled into her core. She looked at him with lustful eyes and painfully panted.   
“-I want you to moan for me dirty girl. I want your screams and begs to echo the walls of the House of God.”

On instinct, she covered her red face in embarrassment. She hid behind her hands and away from his prying eyes. Her mouth remained clamped. Her muscles constricted as her song of lust sought an escape.   
His pace increased as his two fingers pushed in and out of her, the pace increasing at her silence. He slid in and out of her wetness. Her legs began to shake, toes curling inside her shoes.

 

Again, he reached to remove her hands from her face.

“I want to see the naughty look on your face when I make you come.”

His thumb pressed on the sensitive spot on her arm which he had burned. A ghastly gasp, followed by a moan of pleasure escaped her mouth and echoed the pillars of the church. It eventually drowned off to a desperate mewl begging for release. “Tommy.…"She said between heavy breaths. Each stroke tightened her core and longed for sweet release.  
She felt judged under the eyes of the angels that decorated the dome of the church.

Teasingly, he removed his soaking wet fingers from her insides and brought them to his lips to taste. Every inch of her body burned, she wanted more. She needed more. He looked at her with linger in his lustful gaze.

"We’re just getting started love,” he murmured with a husky chuckle as he removed his belt, finally freeing his member from the restrictive pain of his trousers.

Propping herself on her elbows she looked at him through her eyelashes, harsh pants escaped her mouth. He had her dripping. Her clit begged to be touched.  
Tommy savored her flavor. He looked at her, she was ready for him and no one else. Prime flesh for the conquering. He would be the first and only to make her squirm under his weight, to make her beg and her toes curl and all under the eyes of a judging God.

He stroked himself and rubbed a drop of pre-cum over the tip of his cock. She shivered in anticipation and nodded.

(Name) felt the head of his cock rub between the folds of her entrance. A hand rested on her hip bone, the other between her breasts as he pushed her down against the cold altar table.  
Without a warning, his hips rolled forward in one smooth motion as he spread her wide. A deep groan rumbled from his chest as she clenched around him and he eased into her.

She was left breathless and clutched at his arms desperately as a painful whimper escaped her lips. He spit out a curse at the tightness that embraced him. Her nails buried into his shirt. He continued moving. His strokes gained rhythm and his pace increased as he gave into his lustful craving. He filled her over and over again as her moans intensified and the discomfort faded.   
(Name) couldn’t see clearly, couldn’t think clearly. All she could think about was him. She tossed her arms over her head as she sought for anything to grasp for sanity. Her nerve endings were set with an infernal blaze as her muscles clenched begging for release.

“Tommy!” She hissed before the waves racking her body consumed her as the knot that had formed on her lower torso un-winded in a blissful released. She let out a loud moan before her body went limp, breathing ragged.

However, he wasn’t done.

He wore a taunting smirk as he pulled her body to him. He kissed her jaw line before flipping her over in one smooth motion. He spread her feet apart with his own and raised her skirt over her ass. Her upper body sprawled over the ceremonial table as she recovered from her orgasm. Her body chilled as her bare nipples came into contact with the cold marble under them.

The thought of Father O'Ryan celebrating mass on this table… This was the table where he performed the miracle of communion. This was the table where he placed the Holy book of God… The thought of her disrespect aroused her to no end.

Again he filled her. He slid his cock in as deeply as he could. His hips meeting her ass. He thrust roughly as he pulled in and out and filled her over and over again. He fucked her mercilessly as he growled in pleasure.   
(Name) couldn’t think, he was fucking her to the edge of insanity.

She cried out to her God as her fingernails clawed at the edges of the table. Moans could be heard at the rhythmic fucking increased in pace.

“Still praying?” He hummed in a hot voice against her ear as his breathing grew into shallow pants. His hot breath was enough for her eyes to roll back in his possession. His hand let a sharp crack against her skin as he slapped her behind. She cried out, her chest shaking as she neared her second climax. He leaned forward and knotted a fistful of her tangled hair in his hand. Her back arched.   
His teeth sank into the crook of her neck and shoulder. She could feel his powerful, raw strokes stretching her. Each one coming stronger and deeper than the previous one.

She cried out his name, moaned it, sang it. His breathing had grown into low moans. There was no care if anyone heard of walked in on them as long as he was still fucking her. The waves of pleasure crashed against her burning nerves as she reached her release.  
Her mind went blank. Stars blurred her vision as she reached her orgasm.   
A couple of slow thrusts later, he reached his own undoing with a pulsating shudder. A throaty moan of satisfaction left him as he climaxed spilling himself inside of her.

His hands slowly slid down her shoulders to the rest of her body which he held tightly against his. Both souls heaved as reality came crashing down and he collapsed on her.

His fingers gently stroked her arm as he placed a trail of soft kisses on her shoulder. An uneasy chill ran down her spine.

(Name) couldn’t guess just what could be going through Thomas’s mind. She couldn’t read his expression. His half-lidded eyes preserved his emotion in mystery. She thought about her future confession, about her sin, about the secret they now shared…

However, she knew that only one thing was certain, and the thought of it sat on her uneasily.

She had become Thomas Shelby’s whore.


	7. The Scarlet Letter

The Shelby brothers and other associates stood on the snowy street of Watery Lane on a fine morning. The skies were clouded by the winter weather as December set in on the city of Birmingham.

John and Arthur Shelby leaned against the worn bricked wall behind them. John drank and shared a smoke with his brother. The other simply kept company and enjoyed themselves despite the bitter climate.

Despite the unpleasant weather, Thomas Shelby was business as usual. He drove the car around the corner. Eyes focus on the street ahead. Something had been getting under his skin for the past couple of months. Something he would never speak off.

“Oi! Tommy,” Arthur called out to his brother. Tommy pretended not to listen so John tossed himself drunkenly on the hood of the car ultimately bringing it to a halt. 

“Fucks sake!” Tommy snapped as he slammed the breaks, he smacked the wheel angry at the shock.

“Pissed off, are ya?” Arthur said with his eyebrows furrowed as he eyed his upset sibling.

“Drink with us!” John insisted untouched by the car’s hit. He simply dusted off his suit and popped on Tommy’s window. “Driiiiiiiiiiink” He persisted.  
Tommy slammed the car’s door behind him as he adjusted his suit.  
Annoyed, Thomas shook his head and snatched the mug of whiskey from Arthur’s hand before taking one savage gulp not minding the afterburn of the golden beverage. 

The other gang members that were huddled up together drinking all grinned and cheered at Tommy’s arrival.   
“What’s been eating ya, Tommy?” John his hand on his brother’s shoulder.   
“I’ve got stuff to do,” Thomas changed the subject abruptly and lit a cigarette to calm himself. It had been months…

Arthur pursued his lips and decided to ignore his brother’s secrecy. Tommy had always been a private person. It was best to respect his privacy. He figured it was probably family business… The group of men talked about the usual subjects they frequented.  
Other gangs, gambling, other gangs, them horses races and of course, a popular topic, the local women in town.

“-I swear. She said she’d do eight of us for a good price!” One of the men exclaimed as he referenced to a bona fide offer one of the town’s local prostitutes had made to him.

“She’s probably got the clamp mate!” One of them cringed.  
“There’s no decent woman that will take eight men in one lay for cheap!”   
The rest of the men agreed as they shook their heads in disgust.   
It was then that the gang fell silent. 

From a distance, they saw that pious woman. She walked quietly with her small purse tucked at her side. Her (hair/color) hair was neatly combed as always. She kept to herself as she walked in straight strides. However, this time her head held not as high, and she avoided the prying gazes of the other people in town with shame. Especially the men’s.

Like always, she was dressed in light colors and was known to kind, soft-spoken and devoted to her faith. when addressed.

“Can’t believe it,” One of the men shook his head in disbelief as his eyes remained glued to the woman. “That’s somebody who plays a virgin in the light, but has no urgin’ in the night,” another sniggered mockingly.  
The group noticed her swollen stomach which she attempted to hide as she walked.  
“Who would’ve thought the town’s prude was just another whore,” John commented.

(Name) was no longer untouchable. She was no longer considered by the other civilians to be a good Catholic. She had become a familiar nightmare in society. One who did not wear her Scarlet Letter with any pride. The men disrespectfully catcalled her and called filthy comments after her.

Unnoticed by the Peaky Blinders- Thomas Shelby’s grip tightened the mug he had been handed. His eyes went wide. His nostrils flared at the sight. Her eyes met his. (Name)’s heart jumped to her throat, its pace rapidly increasing. She sucked in her breath and with a ghost pale face almost ran out of their view.

Tommy remembered what her hair smelt like, what her embrace felt like.

The men continued on with their bullying. It was then that Arthur realized that his brother was looking paler than usual.

“Watch this Tommy,” he winked at his brother in an attempt to lighten up his mood. However, before he even had the chance to make his brother laugh a crash made them all turn. Tommy had dropped his mug. He resembled a chimney with the intensity in which he was smoking. Without saying another word he jumped on the car and accelerated away.

The men simply exchanged a confused look without continuing to drink their thoughts and worries away.

He could feel the heat radiating from her skin. He saw the blush that reddened her face and stretched all the way down to her neck. He could still taste her kiss.

Tommy almost ran over a couple of miners as he sped through the streets of Birmingham. Like a predator, his eyes were focused on one single prey.  
His jaw tightened and his teeth gritted at the sight of her. He didn’t even bother turning the car off as he cornered her just around the street. He could feel a migrating pulsating his temples.

“What the fuck!” He exclaimed as he tossed his cigarette away. The car down slammed behind him loudly.

Startled, the woman cornered into a thin alleyway behind her. She stepped away over the filthy puddles of the cobblestone street and held her stomach protectively on pure instinct.

“What the fuck [name]!” He shouted. Tommy’s was livid. He almost looked murderous as he stomped towards her. The veins on his neck and forehead were swollen with rage.

Paralyzed with her eyes wide she eyed the streets nearby. She hoped there was a pair of prying eyes or a brave yet foolish soul that would come to her aid, but with Thomas Shelby before her… Well, she doubted it.   
For once, everyone seemed to mind their own business in Birmingham.

“Are you a whore?” He spat as he marched towards her. She remained mute, her heart hammering in her chest. “I said,” he repeated clearly.   
“Are you a whore?” His words were cutting like knives. His voice hard, his eyes unfaltering. 

“Tommy,” she began in a soft tone. 

Her mind raced as she arranged her thoughts. He deserved an explanation. She had pictured this scenario unraveling thousands of times, but never quite like this. 

“You have something to say to me.” It wasn’t a question.  
His hands grasped her arms tightly. His touch was rough and she could feel his fingernails burying into her skin despite the barrier her thick sweater created. 

Tommy had developed a migraine. He could already taste the massive opium he’d be getting high on later tonight. It had been months since (Name) had begun to hide from him. Despite his active pursuit, one day she had simply decided to avoid him. It had been as if she had vanished into thin air. He waited outside of her house and had soldier’s spying countless hours a day, yet- there had been no sign of the woman. That is, until now.

“Its not yours,” she blurted and held her breath.

He looked at her for a long silent minute. His eyes hardened. They could both hear a couple of children scurrying around the neighborhood with no mind. The tense silence was deafening. He didn’t say a single word. She flinched as he closely leaned in.

Inches away from her he whispered.

“Do you think me a brute?” 

“I thought you didn’t care for women’s business,” she exhaled lightly shaking her head to the sides. The grip on his hands tightened. 

It was then that he pressed his body against hers completely. She could feel his cigarette and whiskey breath tickling her face when he leaned in. She felt a nostalgic warmth at his body’s touch, a warmth that brought color to her face and made her stomach flutter.   
Despite the tense situation, a sarcastic, lazy smirk made way to Tommy’s handsome face. “If it were anybody else’s there’d be one less son of a bitch in this world." 

She was stunned. With that, he planted a coarse kiss on the edge of her mouth.  
He pressed his forehead against hers as they both stood in that cold, damp alleyway.

"I’m a fair man (Name).” He began taking her chin in his calloused hand. His thumb stroked the jaw he had many times kissed before. It was a trail he was much too familiar with. She was forced to look into his imperious gaze.   
“No son of mine is going to be a bastard.” He said as he lowered his hand to stroke her rounded abdomen. She shivered at his touch and removed his hand from her body.

She remembered everything she had gone through in the past couple of months. If Tommy knew. She could bet that there would be more than one person laying seven feet underground by tomorrow morning.  
But after everything that had happened- after everything she knew.   
She really couldn’t go back to him. She had already fucked up once, she couldn’t afford to do it again.

“I need an answer. Right now.” He pressed at her solemn silence.

Her eyes burned into his as she held her ground. The hand that was on her chin lowered to her chest where he grasped the crucifix she would always wear with pride in her faith. Part of him was surprised she still wore it. Then again, Jesus was known for dinning with hookers and all types of societal rejects.

She shook her head for a final time. 

With a quick tug, Tommy ripped the necklace of her person and pocked it.

Her eyes watered as her lips formed the shape of her answer.

No.


	8. Opium

(Name) sat by the window as she stared at the bullet sized drops of rain pelt against her window. The dark street on the other side of the window was gray, it was ugly. The winter had been bitter both to the city of Birmingham and to her.  
She ran her hand over her empty neck where her cross necklace had once hung, he had taken it. She wondered if he still had it…

She still had something that was his…

Her (color)ed eyes drifted to the cigarette burn mark that marked her arm. He had branded her as his.

It had been months since their last encounter. He hadn’t come for her - yet. She assumed that like most men, he had probably already forgotten her. The thundering skies made the icy window tremble. The empty streets illuminated by the branching rays of lighting. Tonight wasn’t any different from any other day, it was just another sleepless night.

Actually, she had something else that was also his…

The child stirred at night and let out a desperate cry. Turning she approach her some month old babe.

He had given him to her.

(Name)’s affair with Tommy had stretched for months. Their brief relationship had been full of thrills. She could still remember the ecstasy she had when they snuck around the pews and rows of Birmingham’s church at night. It was never the same afterward. Every Sunday after (Name) sat uncomfortably in her seat. Reminiscing memories and bite marks of their affair reminded her of her vulgar sinful actions in the House of God.  
Despite the discomfort and strange thrill that sitting during Sunday service gave her, she still remained devoted to her religion despite it all.

Thomas had never minded her devotion. He simply observed her with his stoic eyes. His guarded persona kept her company during worship as he smoked.

She hated to admit it, but she missed him.  
She missed his lack of manner in church.  
She missed the constant cloud of smoke that seemed to hover over him and the terrible scent of whiskey and cigarettes that had become impressed in his luxurious three-piece suits.

Looking down at her child she realized it had been for the best. For everybody’s best

Being related or in relations with a Shelby was a dangerous business. This was initially why she had decided to keep whatever it was her and Thomas had under the safe walls of the church.

But now-

She attempted to calm her crying child. The thunderstorm did not aid in easing the child’s sleep.

To begin with- What was Tommy supposed to do with a child?

The man had a business to run.

Certainly, he had no time for such primitive things such as a family. Secondly, over the course of their relationship- unfortunately, several patients had come into her father’s clinic; most claimed to be victims of the Peaky Blinders’ wrath. Few died on her father’s surgical table, an infection caught too many of them later costing them their lives.

The violence and death that the gang had spread throughout the city were deemed to be evil. Her father had always called them a plague. A plague that was low enough for not even the street rats to bite into.  
(Name) usually bit her tongue at her father’s lashes against the Peaky Blinders. It seemed like such a foreign concept to her.  
Knowing that Tommy was behind it all didn’t lessen the gravity of the situation… The Peaky Blinders had a handful of enemies in the territory. It wouldn’t be hard for one or two of them to get wise and try getting to Tommy through her or their child.

It wasn’t safe.

She trusted the Holy Trinity enough to keep her safe. She didn’t fear death for she knew she would walk alongside the Lord. However, it was one thing for her life to be in danger, but an innocent child’s? She knew what these men could e capable of.

Lastly, the part that worried her the most was that she knew that their child would eventually partake in the “family business”, after all, he was a male and he possessed the blood of a Shelby. Knowing Tommy there would be no arguing in the matter.

The weight of her child felt heavy under her arms. It was exhausting. (Name) had never planned on raising a child alone. Then again, she had made a mistake, and like any mistake,e she had to face the consequences.

The thunder continued roaring in the distance.

The memory of the realization she was pregnant was still fresh in the back of her mind. There was no doubt that it was his. After all, the odds of her being the next Immaculate Conception had been crossed out some time ago.  
She prayed long and haired for the Virgin Mary to illuminate her in her decision. Alone, afraid and with her skin crawling in anxiousness she meditated on her decision.

She felt filthy. In her dramatized mind she had become Satan’s puppet. Her decision was imminent. Having a child outside of wedlock was enough of a lustful sin. However, killing one… there was no greater sin.

She would keep it.

She had become a whore, and her baby a bastard. Its mysterious parentage did not aid their situation.  
Some people would murmur they had seen the woman dancing with the devil and that the child had been a fruit of a possession. (Name) felt they weren’t far off…

After that, the clock was ticking. How long can one hide a pregnancy for?  
It was only a matter of time before her father, the church and the people of Birmingham realized. As a result, they shunned her.

The day her father found out-  
Insulting words were tossed at her. As were the porcelain vases and teacups that were on the kitchen table. Hot tea spilled like a Pollock and blistered her skin. Words of disappointment were shed as were tears.  
It took a stinging slap to the face for her to realize she was no longer welcome in his household.  
She never dated confess the name of the father. As far as she knew the child was hers and only hers.  
If her father knew of his grandson’s parentage- he would’ve made certain not to let her leave the house until he had “taken care of” the problem, as he had implied his services to her before violently lashing out. The doctor felt the shame of her, his only daughter had soiled their name.

With no choice, (Name) left her father’s home and their practice.

She pondered on her odds of where to go. Going to Tommy was beyond the question. It defeated the purpose of keeping her small family safe.  
So she decided to go to her second home, the church. She managed to freely live under God’s roof depending on the charity and kindness of strangers. That was until the churchgoers realized the reason for her inhabiting what she had claimed was a “sanctuary.”  
She was expelled for her sins. (Name) cried the whole way through as she exited the church.  
She had so much regret, she had confessed and repented wholeheartedly countless times, but it would never be enough…

Her only sin had been loving Thomas too much.

Her own people had betrayed her. She had become an outcast shunned by all. Her own blood, even her own Faith had turned against her. Devastated and in tears, she wondered the slums of Birmingham unsure of what to do. Rivers of tears streamed down her swollen, red eyes as she racked her brain in desperation. For once she was beginning to doubt in her God, in her own Faith.

How was it that He would allow this to happen to her?  
Certainly, God himself wouldn’t turn his back on her-

(Name) contemplated the life of a beggar.

It was then that a miracle happened.

Mr. Alfred MacAskin, the ill man she had cared for prior to meeting Tommy, spotted her through his dirty windows. It was now the same window she had been peeking out from only a few moments ago. Both sick and alone, Mr. MacAskin made her an offer she could not refuse.  
(Name) was welcome to live with him on no charge with the only condition that she watched after him during his terrible illness. Blinking away the tears in her eyes, she agreed and embraced the elderly man.  
Some months later that Mr. MacAskin passed away.  
With no close relatives or friends, Alfred left whatever was left of his small fortune and all of his belongings to (Name).  
It was a humble amount. Regardless, his kindness had kept both her and her child sheltered and with bread on the table.  
The people of Birmingham gossiped that his man could’ve been the father to her bastard child. Other whispered that the woman had seduced him and then poisoned him in cold blood for whatever was left of his fortune.  
With deaf ears, she thanked God and made sure to frequent the old man’s grave.

Having inherited the house, (Name) eventually decided to open up her own clinic in hopes of earning some income. After all, it was the only trade she was familiar with.  
The people were a skeptic of her clinic at first. God forbid an unmarried woman bearing a child out of wedlock practiced as a medic!  
Despite it all, she had faith that everything would fall into place, and so far it had. After all, God has a plan for everyone. He had blessed her with a healthy babe and a small practice. After some time, the humble people of the area began attending her clinic in hopes of finding an ailment or having their medical needs looked after.

In the present night, the baby stirred and tossed in her arms restlessly. She coed at it exhausted in an attempt to soothe its powerful crying. She was exhausted. Emotionally she was not well. She was unable to sleep most evenings.  
She wasn’t sure what the root of her insomnia was.  
Perhaps it was Catholic guilt? Perhaps it was unrest?

It was then that an introducing rapping in the door downstairs crashed her train of thoughts. She looked at the clock that hung on the austere wall of her bedroom.  
“At this time?” She murmured to herself. It was the devil’s hour. Nothing good could be at her doorstep at three in the morning.  
Wrapping her coat around her body she descended the stairs and peeked through the edge of the ajar door. The rain fell hard. The dripping and falling echoed the quiet streets of the slums. In the dimly lit outside of her home stood several men.

“Yes?” She asked as she held the restless infant close to her chest. She hid its small face away from the chill of the outside.

“Doctor?” The man slurred drunkenly.  
“I’m-I’m not…”

She was about to explain that she wasn’t a licensed doctor when she froze at the sight of a gun pressed against the bridge of her nose.

“Are you a doctor or not?” The man challenged.

The chilling steel of the gun tasted her skin. The child fussing in her arms did not aid the fear that was continuously escalating within her.

“Yes.” She murmured.

A necessary lie.

“You’ll do,” the man grumbled satisfied and reached for her arm roughly. He dragged her out to the pouring rain, the child still in her arms. His cries only became louder.

“Wait-!” She struggled. “My child- The time- My medical kit-”  
“Get in the fucking car,” the man drunkenly hissed before he shoved her against the black vehicle. Inside she attempted to maintain the baby’s body dry. The poor child was now wet and cold, this only made matters worse. (Name) looked at the gun the man held with terrified eyed.

“God’s the one who pulls the fucking trigger,” he spat. For whatever reason, his words were not reassuring to her.

The car took off without a warning. One of the men tossed the bag with medical supplies at her soaking wet, bare, feet.

It was then that (Name) realized the man that had sat next to her in the backseat was none other than the oldest Shelby sibling, Arthur. He was blithering drunk out of his mind and his eyes were red and swollen as he shouted at the driver. She was certain that he was feeling something, what it was she had no idea.

“We’ve got a sit… We’ve ‘lready offed one doc in town, can’t afford to lose 'anuther. Get'it?” Arthur slurred drunkenly as he continued drowning himself in a flask of what (Name) couldn’t tell if it was gasoline or alcohol. Not that it made a difference…  
She couldn’t tell what it was he wanted. She wondered if it had anything to do with…  
Her eyes darted down to her child which she was now bouncing on her shoulder impatiently.  
Arriving at the location the men brought her inside. Still, a gun was being held at an arms distance as she walked inside of a warm house.

Inside, soaking to the bone with her hair sticking to her face she was greeted by two women.

“Doctor! Thank God you’re here,” the older looking woman said as she rushed to the door. Her eyes were two dark hovering orbs. Her face was fixed on a permanent frown and her eyebrows were arched. “It’s my nephew…” She began. “He’s unwell.”  
Her eyes darted to a room upstairs with concern. (Name) nodded. It was then that the other woman, the much younger one, took the infant from (Name)’s hands without questioning her authority. She reached for her child but stopped when she remembered the queasy feeling the gun being held against her back made her feel, it was hard to have a say in the situation.

(Name) was beginning to add two and two together. She had a sick feeling in her stomach at the realization of where she was.

“You’re chilled to the bone!” the woman cooed as she attempted to calm the babe.  
“I’ll watch him for you,” the young woman said as she held the child close to her. Despite the association to the Shelby’s she wore a kind expression and appeared to hold an air of innocence.

Arthur lead the doctor upstairs at gunpoint. “You better make 'him better,” he threatened. (Name) wondered if he remembered the approach he had once made towards her.

“Isn’t he precious?” The woman coed as our protagonist walked away. There was something about her words that brought tranquility to (Name). If she died tonight… Perhaps this woman would take her child?

She swore she could feel the doorknob sting as she reached for it with a shaky hand. The sight of the room twisted her insides as she felt a punch in the gut.

Tommy Shelby was lying on the bed unconscious.  
Besides his bed stood his other brother, John, who was a nervous wreck.  
“'bout blood time you got 'ere with the fucking doctor!” He cried out as he pulled out his short hair anxiously.

Her breath caught as she saw the terrible conditions in which he lay. He was unresponsive, his eyes were slightly open. Hints of his shirtless skin were odd shades of bluish purple, slight choking sounds could be heard coming from his throat. It was a death rattle.

She realized she spoke only after saying it.

“Tommy!” She shrieked in horror as she dove to the ground next to his bed.

His skin was cold and clammy. Pale skin, limp body, and a slow pulse.

“Help me lift him!” She wasted no time in lifting his body, John helped on the other side. Thomas was absolutely unconscious. She made him throw up on a rag that John had brought her.  
With panic rushing through her, she injected him with the medicine she felt would ease the overdose.

“Get rid of this,” she told John as she tossed the rag to his hands. With a look of panic, he rushed down the stairs.  
“Hot water,” she called over her shoulder to Arthur who was still pointing the gun at the doctor looked at her hesitantly. Stumbling upon the doorframe he left the room to get the water.

This was no disease. Stumbling around the room she pulled at the first drawer next to his bed. It revealed a nightmare.

“Oh, Tommy, Tommy, my Tommy,” she said as she held his face in her hands. Guilt and pain washed over her. In the drawer were a smoke pipe and a load of brown opium.

 

She pressed her forehead against his and felt her face was suddenly wet.

He was an addict.  
How had she been so blind to see it?

“What the fuck- do you think you’re doing?” A voice hissed.  
She turned to see Arthur and John Shelby looking struck. Without another word, she wiped her tears and stood up.

“He-He’ll be fine. Just a bad bug,” she lied through her teeth.  
Both men eyed her suspiciously. Her stomach had sunk, she felt something twisting inside of her chest.

She gathered her medical kit and prepared to leave the room.  
“Make sure he takes two of these every twelve hours,” she said handing John (the more rational looking brother) a small flask with some pills in it. He has to drink a lot of water and don’t keep him out of sight-“

Her voice trailed off when she realized neither of the brothers were listening to her.

"Oh, you’re not going anywhere doctor,” Arthur warned.

“Tommy doesn’t git any betta’, you don’t git to leave - with life 'least.” He said darkly.


	9. Addiction

Dawn had come. The sun had barely crept on the horizon dimly illuminated England.

Ada had beaten the dawn. In her arms rested the doctor’s child. She smiled down lovingly at the cherry-faced infant as she fed it a complexion of cow milk and egg yolks. The young woman was startled by her Aunt Poll entering the kitchen.

She was taken aback at the astonished face the older woman wore.

“Will you return that child to its poor mother Ada?” She exclaimed as she opened the small windows of kitchen allowing dim rays of light to creep in.

“I could eat you alive!” the other coed as she bounced the babe in her arms. Ada couldn’t help but think about her own children in the future. She wondered who their father would be and what they would look like.  
“Just look at ‘im, Aunt Poll!” She said cocking her head to the side looking at the child adoringly.

Ada was taken back by the sound of a dish shattering. Porcelain spread over the kitchen floor. Aunt Poll’s eyes went wide, her eyebrows almost vanished into her hairline. She leaned towards the child in disbelief and eyed it with careful scrutiny. 

“By God!” She mumbled as she looked at the child’s bright eyes. “He looks just like Tommy!” She exclaimed.

The doctor had spent the night by Tommy’s unconscious side. It appeared as if his body had stabilized over the course of the night with the aid of her medical care. She had spent the night praying for recovering until slumber came to her.  
His skin had regained its color overnight and had become warm to the touch. His breath was steady and his hand lazily lay on top of the doctor’s head. Fingers running idly through her hair. 

She had fallen asleep leaning against his bed, head buried face down on the mattress. She suddenly jolted awake at the feeling of something heavy falling on her shoulders. It was that older woman from downstairs.  
She let out a shaky breath after she realized the woman had kindly laid a wool blanket on her body.  
She couldn’t help but be on guard in this house. God only knows what Arthur and the other Shelby could’ve been up to. 

“T-Thanks,” the doctor shivered.  
“How is he?” the older woman asked politely with both of her hands crossed at the front of her body.  
“Better,” she said with a tight-lipped smile as she brought the blanket closer to her body. Her eyes drifted away from Aunt Poll’s.  
(Name) wasn’t sure if Tommy’s family was aware of his addiction to opium. She felt it was the first of the many secrets she would keep for him…

“Also, your darling boy is precious, Love” the woman stretched the conversation with a small smile. She wasn’t sure if it was meant to be a kind comment or a passive-aggressive one.  
“When were you planning on telling us it’s a Shelby?” The question caught her off-guard. (Name) choke on her words as she felt the blood drain from her face. The silence between the two women was haunting.

“It-It’s not…” She lied. However, not as well as before.

“Shut it.” Aunt Poll snapped severely. 

(Name) swallowed her words.  
The woman was terribly intimidating. 

“I’ve seen you around,” Aunt Poll approached her. “What I know to be true is that you’re that pious girl that lives at the church,” she rolled her eyes at the memory of the young woman visiting the church almost daily.  
“Almost as Holy as Mary… Terrible that my nephew had to corrupt your modesty,” She shook her head. “Men,” She scoffed with an eye roll as she glared at her nephew.

She sat with her jaw loose as she starred in awe at the woman’s judgment.

“You think I didn’t have my nephew followed? So many nights sneaking off to go to a church? Him being in a bullfighting pin or in a brothel would’ve raised fewer flags. So many thoughts crossed my mind, but I would’ve never imagined.” She explained.

Guilty as charged. The other woman sat in shock and simply nodded apprehensively. And they thought they had been so careful…

“Besides, lil’ plum is the spitting image of his dad,” there it was again that mysterious smile.

It was then that a squeeze brought (Name) out of her daze. 

“Mornin’ Aunt Poll,” he spoke groggily with a raspy voice. He rubbed his dry face with a hand. The other-

She turned to see a larger hand squeezing her own.

“Morning,” he said her name more seriously.  
“Have you met the woman I’m going to marry?” Tommy called out to his aunt.

The doctor’s face turned scarlet as she attempted to pull her hand away from his. She couldn’t bear looking at the expression on his face. Aunt Poll shook her head and exhaled what appeared to be a humorous huff before leaving the room. Part of her wasn’t sure if to take Tommy’s claim seriously or not, then again, Tommy was not a man of jokes.

“Thomas!” Our protagonist snapped. “Have you gone mad?” She spat out in a hushed tone. 

“What?” he mumbled sleepily as he reached for a loose strand of hair to play with. Tommy didn’t care about the nausea or consuming headache he was feeling. This was the best way to wake up.  
The doctor was silent, she avoided his gaze.

“I meant it.” He spoke seriously, as he fingered a particular long strand.

“Not that!” She slapped his hand away growing irritated.  
“Brown opium?” He could see the hurt in her eyes at the question. “Jesus. Tommy. What were you thinking?” 

“(Name).…"He began. "I haven’t been the same since the war.” He explained.  
“It helps me.” He added as he reached an upright sitting position.  
“And then- what is this nonsense about marriage?” She shook her head in denial.

Thomas opened his mouth to pursue an explanation.  
He was about to protest her calling of his proposal nonsense-  
It was then that his ears met the sound of an infant crying just down the stairs. He noticed the alertness in her eyes as panic surged through her.  
“Is.. Is that?” He asked, his mouth suddenly felt parched.  
It hadn’t been much of a question.

Tommy didn’t even realize that his feet began carrying him downstairs. He left the bed wearing an undershirt and the black pants he had been wearing when he fell ill.

“Tommy, no, leave him- he’s-” she placed her hands on his shoulders gently as she attempted to calm him down. 

“I want to meet my son.” 

Tommy rushed down the stairs. 

The thought of not being well dressed didn’t even cross his mind. He didn’t care who was in the kitchen or who wasn’t.  
Upon entering the kitchen he saw Ada holding a fuzzing bundle in her arms.  
(Name) caught her breath as she followed behind.  
He could hear Ada speaking but couldn’t distinguish the words. Nor did he care.  
Upon laying eyes on his son he felt something swell in his chest.

It was his. His breath trembled at the sight.

Without another word, Ada handed the child to its father. Tommy was speechless.

He hadn’t realized that its mother stood at a distance leaning her weight against the kitchen’s wall. She hid her mouth behind the palm of her hand as tears streamed down her face.

“I-.…” she composed herself before speaking. “I…” However, she lost her words. Unable to speak she looked upon the scene 

“What’s his name,” Thomas spoke quickly. He didn’t dare remove his eyes from the infant’s rounded face. There was no question this was his only son, the resemblance was uncanny.

She was silent for a moment. 

How could she have done something so foolish? Deny the right for father and son to be together. It was one of the basic foundations of the Holy Trinity. The Father and the Son.  
The look on Tommy’s face, the glint in his eyes.  
She felt ill, having done such a thing. Her insides twisted anxiously.

“I.…I named him after his father,” she said wiping away a lost tear. “I call him by his second name, of course, Graeme.”

Ada’s jaw dropped at the scene unraveling before her.  
Aunt Polly lay a hand upon her chest, touched by the moment.  
The two Shelby women realized the intensity that Tommy’s eyes held when he turned to look at the mother of his child.

His strides were sharp when he approached her. He reached for her face and wasted no time kissing her. The woman flushed turning a bright shade of red.

“Marry me. I mean it.” His tone was imperative, eyes piercing, his voice hoarse.

Ada squeaked in the background. Aunt Poll wanted to remain in the room and be nosy but thought best to leave the kitchen to the couple. Regardless her eyes were wide and remained glued to Tommy’s back.

She struggled to find a response. “I-I…” she began.  
she looked at him and at their child, the one he held in his arms.  
“I can’t.” She slowly shook her head. Tears began to well up in her swollen eyes once again.

She guessed that living as a Shelby wouldn’t be living at all.

“Think rationally. Please.” He pleaded with her. “Our child needs a family. A child out of wedlock, he’ll be a bastard.”  
“I rather he be a bastard that for him to grow up seeing his father behind bars- or worse, seven feet underground.”

She also kept his Opium problem in the back of her mind. At that moment, she couldn’t help but wonder just what other secrets Thomas Shelby was keeping from her.  
In a way, she guessed everyone had an addiction, a mechanism for coping with the struggles of daily life.  
For some, it was alcohol, for other tobacco, for Tommy she guessed it must be opium, and as for hers - it was him.  
He was intoxicating, he was tempting, he was everything she wasn’t and everything she should have and should be avoided.  
He had led her life astray, torn her family apart, branded her as his and had caused her to be labeled as a prurient, loose woman in the small society of Birmingham. Even her own religion had turned its back on her.  
Just as he had given to her, he had taken. 

Scratch that, he wasn’t her addiction. Hers was religion. It helped her cope. It explained the unexplained and made sense of out of nonsense.

Tommy was talking nonsense. There couldn’t be a wedding between them. Her father wouldn’t even pay a dowry for her.  
He let out a nasal huff as his lip curved almost humorously. As if the thought of him Peaky Blinders being harmed or in jail seemed an impossibility to him. Thomas insisted that they belonged together as a family.

“Marry me.” He appealed again. “Not because of our child, not because of the church. Marry me because I love you.”

She was stunned. She felt her knees go weak. 

Graeme stirred in Tommy’s arms emitting a babble.

“Even Tommy Jr. wants us to be together,” he beamed.

She couldn’t help it. The smallest of smiles made way to her face.


	10. Loaded Gun

_With a mind sunk deep in devout prayer._

_Mrs. Shelby was currently kneeling in the front pew of the church. She no longer wore her pristine white veil._

_Instead, she kneeled and she prayed, she prayed and prayed and prayed._

_She thought of Tommy, her dear husband, and she prayed for his soul. He was a good man. She knew it deep inside of her aching heart._

_Often times Aunt Poll would join her in prayer. However, this time she was alone._

_The cloudy skies cast a dull light which reflected through the church’s colorful stained flowers of glasses on the windows._

_Despite it being early in the morning the temple was empty._

_Deep in devoted worship, she didn’t hear the echoing footsteps entering the House of the Lord…_   
  


* * *

Mrs. Shelby had initially been so hesitant to marry the man. She didn’t belong in his world tainted by malicious lies and deathly violence.

Neither did their child…

But did she have a choice?

Her child needed a father and his father needed him, and well- despite his occupation… Thomas had been a good man to her. A really good man.

It had led her to ponder on the philosophical question of what made a man: his job? The way he did his job? Or was it his character?

Meditating upon the Words of the Bible she came to a conclusion. God’s Word, the Holy Book, was a book of love.

The greatest commandment was to “Love thy neighbor as thyself.” She pondered long and hard on those words. Arguably God’s first miracle towards humanity had been to give Adam, the first man, his equal, a wife, a person to love: Eve.

She would be the Eve to his Adam as he would be hers.

When reaching the front of the altar her eyes wandered to look at his pocket watch. She eyed the thin golden chain he had fashioned for it.

It was her rosary cross, the one he had once ripped from her heart in a dark alley.

Now he would always have a piece of her with him.

The day of her wedding she made a pact with God.

He had, and would always have her uncouth devotion, God that is.

In exchange, she only asked for him to save her husband’s soul.

The pious woman was surprised at how her life changed when she married into the Shelby family. She spent a lot of time with Aunt Poll who was the family’s matriarch. She liked to think of it as grooming.

Mrs. Shelby learned from her very quickly. Aunt Poll taught her what to do, what not to do, what to say, what not to say. They would often pray, run errands or simply enjoy each other’s company. Ada would join them sometimes. And when Mrs. Shelby wasn’t preoccupied with familiar tasks or running errands she could be found attending the needs of the family’s wounded soldiers. An activity that part of Thomas detested, yet was thankful for.

Often times Tommy would miss dinner. Mrs. Shelby would tire of waiting for him with a full plate of cold food. After some time she decided to call it quits.

She could feel him slither into the sheets at the crack of dawn, his weight dipping the mattress. However, she wasn’t one to question her husband’s matters or his where-have-been’s. Something that Aunt Poll had made very clear to her…

He would hold her tight and bury his face in her nest of hair. She could sometimes hear him mumbling something about “the drills…” in his sleep.

xxx

“What?” She would ask gently shaking him awake.

She had grown used to Tommy’s odd sleeping habits. His tossing and turning, his sleeplessness, the mumbling, stirring and even sometimes the screaming.

“Tommy, wake up!”

“You’re here.” He would sigh as his arms found his way around hers. “You’re here…” He would breathe into her skin.

xxx

Time passed.

Tommy’s business grew with time.

The Peaky Blinder’s territory and infamy spread through Birmingham and further like the plague. There wasn’t a person who didn’t know who the Shelby’s were or would dare touch them with a ten-foot pole.

Tommy’s job was to take care of the family business. Hers to take care of him.

Despite it all, their marriage was no bed of roses.

Being married to Tommy Shelby sometimes included unpleasant encounters. She felt as if every night it was something different.

Sometimes he would arrive home covered in something or someone’s blood.

Other times he was wounded: shot, cut, bleeding, tortured, ill.

At times he was even high out of his mind. Even tho he had promised he would stop.

The stress of caring for the man who had her heart had caused strands of her hair to begin to turn grey regardless of her young age.

Their marriage could’ve been called a lot of things- ordinary definitely wasn’t one of the words she would use.

xxx

“Now you’ve seen me.”

He said to her the first time she caught him fumbling around the bathroom as he washed foreign blood of off his pale skin.

“Please stop,” she would cry into his bare shoulder as she cleaned his wounds. It was beginning to take a toll. The sleepless nights, the stress, the fear or her husband not returning to her any day.

She almost felt as if any day could be the last.

She pleaded to her husband to take another office. She would not care if it was work in the mines or even in the docks. It was probably safer than having him stroll the streets with a target on his back as the leader of the Peaky Blinders.

“You knew the kind of man I was when you married me,” he would say gruffly.

At loss of words, she remained silent.

xxx

Other peculiar instances that occurred after her marriage to Thomas would be when she would attend the market to run errands.

xxx

“Could I have some eggs?” she asked one of the vendors once kindly.

“None for ya,” the man spat gruffly.

“I know ya. I seen ya. You’re that whore- bearing a creature without God’s blessing.”

Cross. Upset, yet without another word she turned and left the store. She held her tongue and decided to forget about the incident.

The next morning… Mrs. Shelby awoke to the man banging on her doorstep at sunrise.

“I-I am so sorry. I wish I had known! I meant no disrespect! Here-Here!” He cried out as he handed the woman a basket full of fresh eggs to her.

He wore a black eye and appeared and was dressed in dried blood from the former night.

Many teeth gaps appeared in his grim expression, his mouth swollen.

xxx

After that-

Whenever Mrs. Shelby entered a place, Mrs. Shelby got what she wanted.

People began dodging her in the street. Vendors would hand her free cheese, free produce, fresh and hot bread right of the oven. Even the lame and beggars would cringe whenever she approached them to give charity.

Rooms would clear the moment she set foot in them. All falling silent at the presence of the woman.

Aunt Poll would mutter that the people had grown more afraid of disrespecting her than of Tommy himself. God knows what the people of Birmingham had heard.

Rumors were whoever dared lay a hand on Mrs. Shelby would loose more than a hand, and whomever dared even look in her direction would be made a blind man.

Once- a religious man made the mistake of approaching her one Sunday outside of the church. He had meant no ill, yet there was Thomas. Outside, patiently waiting for his wife to finish her worship.

Mass had never been his cup of tea.

Without a word he simply approached her and claimed her. He took in her elbow and with a subtle hand on her back simply lead her away, his jaw was tight as he glared at the foreigner.

Mrs. Shelby simply smiled at her husband and took his hand in hers as they returned home.

Yet- despite it all… Thomas was a loving man to both her and their child. Their small home was filled with familiar laughter, breakfast food fights and bedroom pillow fights.

Some nights Mr. Shelby and his wife would dance to the latest swing jazz on their living room stereo. When Tommy returned from out of town trips it was always nice.

He would arrive with a toy hidden behind his back to surprise his son with. The child would exclaim and clap his hands in excitement at the surprise.

His wife would hold a hand to her heart simply relieved to have her husband home once again.

He would also have a treat for her, rare gems, pearl necklaces, African diamonds imported from the bloody mines of El Congo.

However, she was simply happy to have him back.

She would embrace him tightly every day.

Rain or shine. Shedding away her sadness or anger she would swallow her pride and embrace the man who had given her everything.

After all, any day could be their last.

* * *

 

_…They stopped behind her._

_The footsteps that_ is _. A pregnant silence followed. A dropped pin could be heard in the temple._

_An arm raised._

_A loaded gun aimed._

_Threatened. Her eyes shot open._

_Holding her breath she mumbled her final prayers. Realization washed over her consciousness._

_She begged God to forgive and save her husband’s soul one final time._

_Despite the darkness that Tommy carried within him, there was also good. He had done well. He had done_ good _…_

_She kept a beaded rosary wrapped around her palms._

_Wrapped safely around the white, pearly rosary was a loaded gun held tightly in her stiff hand._

_Her finger itched against the burning trigger._


End file.
